Battle of the Band
by Slide Girl
Summary: Trunks and Goten have started a band, and it's their first concert! But what happens when they lose both their drummer and their keyboardist half an hour before showtime? A pair of unlikely musicians take their places...


The Battle of the Band  
  
By  
Slide Girl  
  
  
  
  
Hello! This is Slide Girl. We are two people, who write under one name. Don't be surprised if the writing style doesn't change dramatically, we tried very hard to get it to sound like one person. Since both of us didn't have accounts on Fan Fiction, we decided to open one together. Well, anyway, this is our first story. We hope you'll enjoy it, and leave comments, either good or bad. If you leave bad comments, please explain why you didn't like it or what you found wrong, so we can do better next time. Remember: it's supposed to be funny! :) The story begins....  
  
  
  
  
  
Trunks winced as Goten ran his fingers down his bass guitar, creating a horrible screech. Goten grinned. "I think that's how we should end it."  
  
Trunks scowled at his best friend and struck a short, simple chord. "No way. If we do this, then Roger can do a small solo. Then we can blend to the next song."  
  
Roger, the drummer, nodded his approval.  
  
Goten frowned. "We don't want to put the audience to sleep! Besides, it sounds so much cooler my way." Noticing Trunks' expression hadn't changed, he added, "And Billy could do something in there, too."  
  
His friend's scowl darkened. "The keyboard?" He exclaimed in disbelief. "The keyboard over the drums?"   
  
Roger and Billy exchanged a nervous glance.  
  
Goten's eyes scrunched in frustration. "Can't you see? It would be lame. Let's just do it my way."  
  
Trunks shook his head, lavender hair bouncing around his face. "No, do it my way, and I'll let you choose the ending next time."  
  
Goten rose from his chair. His eyes shone with impatience. "What is this? The fifth time you've said that?" His voice escalated. "And I've let you have it your way each time. When's it my turn?"  
  
Trunks' eyes flashed angrily. "Look Goten. This band was my idea to begin with! Plus, I know a lot more about how to play then you do. Trust me on this."  
  
Goten bared his teeth in irritation. "Not this time. I made up this song, and I get to play it how I want!"  
  
Roger and Billy stood up in alarm, ready to pull the two apart if the argument ended in a brawl.   
  
Trunks laughed maliciously. "I wasn't going to say this, Goten, but your song stinks! I was just going along with it because you're my best friend."  
  
The comment stung Goten, but he didn't show his feelings. "Well, I think it's the best we have so far. We might be big right now if you stopped writing such crummy music!"  
  
Trunks' short fuse was burning very quickly. "Well if you haven't noticed, O brilliant one, we've only been a band for two months, made up approximately three songs, and we're opening for a bunch of red-haired freaks that call themselves Laryngitis! This is our one big chance to get noticed, and I don't want you blowing it because you want Billy to play a solo!" Trunks spat his words out at his best friend.  
  
Goten dropped his guitar and leaped into the air over Trunks, hovering there. "My way!" He yelled.  
  
Trunks followed his example, flying up to meet him face to face. The air crackled with the energy they were both giving off. "No, my way!"  
  
The drummer and the keyboardist looked at one another, then at Goten and Trunks, and then at the door. They didn't bother to close it as they fled from the room.  
  
Goten had already opened his mouth, ready to spring another reason why they should end the song his way, when a staff member clutching a notepad passed by their backstage room, calling out behind him, "Half hour intermission, guys!" He didn't look into the room as he walked by.  
  
Trunks gritted his teeth and looked at Billy and Roger. They were gone. His eyes grew wide. "Where are Billy and Roger? They were right here!"  
  
Goten looked also. Gliding to the door, he poked his head outside and looked down the long corridor. His face was grim as turned back to Trunks. "They're running down the hallway towards the exit."  
  
Trunks slowly lowered to the ground, the reality of their dilemma slowly sinking into his features. "Why-?"  
  
Goten scowled for them both. "They didn't know."  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"That we are half-saiyens!" He snapped at Trunks. "This is the first time we've had an argument around them"-his scowl darkened-"and they've never met our parents!"  
  
Trunks smiled slightly. "How could they have? We never met anywhere except their houses and the pizza place.   
  
Goten grunted. Gripping his fore head with his left hand, he also lowered to the ground. "And what're we going to do? We have half an hour to come up with a keyboardist and drummer that can at least follow along to our songs!"  
  
A friendly voice filled the air, startling them both. "Hey guys. Ready for the big night?" Gohan rounded the corner into their room.  
  
Goten and Trunks looked at each other and grinned. Trunks cleared his throat. "Gohan? Can you play an instrument?"  
  
Gohan looked warily around the room. "Yeah. Where's the rest of the band?"  
  
Goten laughed nervously. "They kind of, ah, disappeared when we almost got into a fight. Drums or keyboard? We need you, brother."   
  
Gohan's gaze returned to his younger brother and friend. "Huh? No, I don't play either. The flute is my instrument."  
  
Trunks recoiled, and Goten stuck out his tongue in disgust. "Come on! You call that an instrument?"  
  
Gohan pulled himself up unconsciously. "Yeah."  
  
Trunks laid a hand on Gohan's shoulder, remembering how desperate they were. He knew they couldn't afford to make fun of how he played a flute. "We really, really need some help, Gohan." He said slowly. "Do you know anyone that could do this for us?"  
  
Gohan searched his mind. "Hang here. I'll be right back." He ducked into the hallway, leaving Trunks and Goten alone with their abandoned keyboard and drum set. He quickly raced out of the backstage entrance into a small crowd of people milling near the entrance to the concert hall. Pushing past them, he entered the enormous room. Immediately his ears filled with the loud chatter of the thousands of people gathered to see Laryngitis. He slowly wound his way through masses of teens with their died red hair spiked and half of the skin on their face pierced.   
  
Finally, he saw them: Goku, Chichi, Vegeta, Bulma and Piccolo. They were sitting in the same row with what looked like much difficulty. Bulma and Chichi were sitting to each other, chatting casually. Gohan didn't fail to notice that Piccolo and Vegeta were sitting as far away as was possible from each other, occasionally exchanging dark glances. But other than that, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.  
  
Gohan seated himself next to his former trainer. He still couldn't believe Piccolo had come to the concert- probably just an excuse never to go to another one again. Or maybe he wanted to see his brother and friend perform.  
  
"Piccolo?" Gohan said, sitting down next to him.  
  
He grunted in recognition.  
  
"Ah, I was just wondering if you could do Trunks, Goten and I a really, really big favor. "  
  
Piccolo turned his hard, black stare on his former student. His turban shone blue in the dim light.  
  
"They need a keyboardist." He blurted out. "Theirs just ran away when they almost got into a fight. If they don't have one, all their work is for nothing. I saw at least five other bands backstage that are backups for those they'll cancel. They'll replace them in a heartbeat."  
  
Piccolo frowned and looked from Gohan to the thousands piled into the auditorium. There were two balconies spilling with Laryngitis fans. He ran his claws once over his shoulder armor. "Don't be ridiculous."  
  
Gohan sighed. This was going to be harder that he thought. "Will you do it for Trunks and Goten?"  
  
Piccolo's frown soured. "Never. I don't care if those two can't play. They shouldn't even-"  
  
He was cut off by an indignant snort. "You mean the pointy eared Namek is smart enough to play an instrument?" It was Vegeta.  
  
Piccolo shot him a dark look. "Yes." He growled through clenched teeth. "I can. Gohan showed me it helps my meditation. Piano is incredibly simple."  
  
Vegeta laughed harshly. "Like you." He narrowed his black eyes. "I don't believe you."  
  
Piccolo rose out of his seat, his hands balled into fists. Vegeta did the same, except with a nasty grin plastered on his face. Piccolo spat, "I can, you dirty saiyen."  
  
"Then prove it."  
  
Pulling together the last of his patience, he growled out, "I will prove it." He turned his back on Vegeta and ordered Gohan to take him to where they were.  
  
Vegeta raised his eyebrows , disappointed, and sat back down.  
  
Piccolo muttered to himself, "Should be a challenge, I suppose." He raised his voice as he spoke to Gohan, trying to be heard over the Laryngitis fans. "Nice music, right Gohan? Which composer wrote this?"  
  
Gohan flushed as they entered the backstage hallway and nearly ran over a very flustered-looking Goten. He yelped as he plowed into Piccolo, who didn't budge.  
  
"I found you a keyboardist." Gohan said to Trunks, who was standing right behind Goten, looking as equally surprised. They both gaped in disbelief. Gohan gave them a warning look.  
  
Trunks glanced back at Piccolo, and then at Gohan again. He still wasn't satisfied. "We still need a drummer!" He exclaimed. "Gohan, we need someone else!"  
  
Gohan shrugged. "I did the best I could." He walked out of the backstage hallway, leaving them there with Piccolo.  
  
Goten was still staring at the Namek when Trunks grabbed his arm and pulled him into the air. "Come on. I have an idea." Goten gave him a questioning look and Trunks shot him an anxious glance as they sped along the hallway, leaving Piccolo standing in their room.   
  
"Well, who is it?" Goten questioned.  
  
"My. . . dad."   
  
Goten blinked. And nearly doubled over laughing in midair. "We are so dead! You can't be serious, Trunks!"   
  
Trunks scowled, but he couldn't help smiling at the thought of his dad behind a drum set.   
  
They landed in the thick of the crowd outside of the auditorium and pushed their way in to where their families were sitting. Trunks crept slowly up to Vegeta, who glared at him. He noticed Goten had abandoned him along the way. Probably a good idea, he thought, because Goten wasn't exactly his dad's favorite person.  
  
Vegeta seemed to know what he was thinking, and spat out a question. "What do you and that spawn of Kakuraut want?"  
  
Trunks immediately put on a more serious face. "Could you help us with something, Daddy?"  
  
Vegeta nearly laughed. Daddy, indeed. "No." he answered. "Don't even bother to ask."  
  
Trunks sighed, but the urgency of his situation made him blurt out, "We need a drummer."  
  
Vegeta blinked, and looked back at Trunks. After a moment, he asked, "And this has to do with me. . . how?"  
  
Trunks rocked back and forth on his heels. "You could do it. It's kind of like that saiyen instrument you used to play."  
  
Vegeta started laughing. Like a maniac. Through body tremors, he managed to gasp," You must be joking! My brat wanting me, the Prince of the saiyens, to get up in front of all these humans and make a fool of myself? NO!"   
  
Trunks glanced back at the deserted stage, unable to think of what to say. They had under ten minutes, and then they would be replaced. They had really blown it this time.  
  
Vegeta stopped laughing when Bulma slapped him as hard as she could across his chest. Her cold stare held his, her mouth a thin line. Her slapping him didn't hurt Vegeta in the least, but it got his attention. As he glared at her, he felt the last drops of his patience bleed out of him. But Bulma seemed to have absolutely none left.   
  
"Vegeta-!" she snapped.   
  
"What is it, woman?" Vegeta thundered. "You expect me to actually agree to this?"  
  
Bulma gave a sharp nod, still eyeing him fiercely. "If your son-your own flesh and blood and tail-wants your help, damn it, you're going to going to give it to him!"  
  
Vegeta sat there in silence, scowling at her.  
  
"And if you don't, I'll kick you out of the house!" she added, teeth bared.   
  
Vegeta was stunned with disbelief. "Tell me you're kidding. I refuse to. . ."  
  
Trunks played his wild card. "Piccolo is!"  
  
His father's eyes flashed angrily at his son's. Sometimes, he thought, Trunks was too much like him.   
  
Trunks smirked, knowing he had his father wrapped around his finger. "I mean. . . if you can learn the songs. . ."  
  
Vegeta laughed harshly. "You must be joking. The way you howl them in the shower, I think everyone within five miles knows them!"  
  
Trunks' grin slipped, but only momentarily. "So you'll do it?"  
  
Vegeta replied in a deep, hissing sound. "Well, as it seems I have no choice, which I have to thank you for, son. . .I suppose I will."  
  
Trunks shivered, but nodded eagerly. "Come on. The show starts in ten minutes. . .Prince."  
  
Vegeta growled. "This had better be good. . .for your sake."  
  
Bulma's attitude immediately changed as soon as she realized that she had got her way. She smiled sweetly and pecked Vegeta on the cheek as he stood up. "Have fun!" She chirped.   
  
Vegeta grumbled as he stomped through the aisle, tossing a hotdog vendor that was in his way over his head.  
  
"Finally!" The woman Vegeta was sitting in front of muttered. "I could barely see over his ridiculous hair!"  
  
Goku beamed at this, the thought why his son and Trunks hadn't asked him to play their drums never crossing his mind.  
  
Behind the scenes, the saiyen boys ran back and forth tuning instruments and introducing Piccolo and Vegeta to theirs.  
  
Piccolo looked disgusted. "This is a piano?"  
  
Trunks shook his head. "A keyboard. Pretty much the same thing."  
  
Piccolo tested it, playing a chord from the sheet of music sat before him. "You wrote this?" He asked aloud. "I'm playing some trash two kids wrote? And where's the ending?"  
  
Goten made sure Trunks had gone to inspect Vegeta's drums before slipping Piccolo a copy with his ending written on it.  
  
Trunks handed his dad a pair of drumsticks. Vegeta took them, still in disbelief with what he was about to do. His eyes flashed to Piccolo, who was picking chords, and then back to his own instrument-a jumble of tin and plastic.   
  
Goten walked up from behind him with another pair of drumsticks. "Like this," he said, tapping out a beat with one and referring to the page of music with the other. Standing back, he motioned for Vegeta to try.  
  
Twirling his drumsticks, he proceeded to tap out the rest of the page with incredible accuracy. Trunks grinned proudly from behind Goten.  
  
Vegeta scowled as he finished the page. "This is much simpler than the instrument I played on Vegetasai."  
  
Goten's eyebrows raised. "Okay. . ." he said, surprised, and went to go pick up his guitar.  
  
Trunks made sure his friend wasn't looking before he slipped his dad a copy of the music with his end on it. He hadn't had enough time to make a second one for Piccolo, and he hoped that the namek would be able to improvise.   
  
"Well! Let's get this show on the road!" Trunks beamed at them.  
  
A backstage staff member at the door informed them that it was three minutes until they were on. Trunks was just picking up his guitar and following Goten out the door when he noticed that both Piccolo and Vegeta were picking up their instruments. He waved a hand at them. "It's okay. They already have those onstage."   
  
Grumbling Vegeta and Piccolo followed the two friends out the door, holding only their sheets of music. All four walked out the door of their backstage room and down the hallway. A staff member escorted them to a door. They walked through and found themselves on the dimly lit stage. Trunks and Goten walked to the front as the staff clipped portable microphones on their matching black shirts and on their guitars. Piccolo and Vegeta were lead to their instruments.   
  
Trunks looked nervously around the thousands of Laryngitis fans assembled in the cavernous room. Less then half were even looking at them as the stage director gave him the 'OK' and he breathed into his mic.  
  
"Uhh . . . this is our band, Eternal. My name is Trunks, the bass guitar is Goten. The drummer is my. . . Vegeta, and on the keyboard is Piccolo. We come from. . . never mind. This is the first time we've ever been on a stage, and I'd like to thank you guys for having us here tonight. Here's our first song-Burning, Burning."  
  
The crowd clapped politely towards the young band leaders. Those that were near enough to see them murmured about the band's odd appearance. Apart from the dark green man, there was the lavender haired boy and the spiky, black hair of the other two members.  
  
The lights slowly brightened on Goten and Trunks. Goten struck the first chord of their song. It was a low thrum. Vegeta started tapping lightly on the ride while Piccolo echoed the chord. Trunks slowly sang into the his microphone.  
  
  
  
"In the dark and crispy place  
We're in the hottest heat. . ."  
  
  
Vegeta opened his mouth in repulsion. His son had written this! No, it must have been Goten. Only Kakuraut could have produced such an imbecile.  
  
  
"Burning! Burning!  
Burning! Burning!"  
  
  
Piccolo winced at the chords. He did not think they could have been made to sound so harsh. His claws raced over the slick keys, trying to keep up. My ears are going to bleed after this, he thought, wondering who had written the song.  
  
Trunks and Goten continued singing. Several people in the front row started booing. Their red, spiked hair and pierced faces labeled them as Laryngitis fans. Trunks frowned and glanced at Goten. He grinned and nodded once at his best friend. Goten changed his finger pattern that laced the chords of the song as they skipped the rest of the words and raced into the guitar solo. Piccolo and Vegeta followed along, slightly puzzled by the wordless melody, but they found their places and continued.  
  
The Laryngitis fans continued to boo. A short, ratty looking teenager worked up enough nerve to throw a piece of caramel at them. It wedged itself in Trunks' lavender hair. His eyes flashed as he pulled it out, allowing Goten to continue the solo alone. He wound his arm back and flung it at the Laryngitis fan.  
  
The crowd parted slightly as the teenager was knocked out by the flying caramel. A loud, whooping cheer arose. They loved it.   
  
Vegeta smirked at his son. Sometimes Trunks being like his father was a good thing.  
  
Bulma and Chichi screamed from the stands. "Get him!" "Way to go Trunks!"  
  
Goten was howling with laughter as Trunks joined in the guitar solo again. Trunks looked at him again and nodded once. They kicked into the air, clutching their guitars.  
  
Eternal now had the crowd riveted on them. Trunks and Goten swooped above their red, spiked heads.  
  
Vegeta frowned. This might be dangerous for the saiya-jin families. Hopefully everyone would think those were special effects.  
  
Piccolo glared at Vegeta and mouthed 'What are they doing?'  
  
Vegeta scowled and ignored him.  
  
The end of the wordless song began to near. Piccolo looked up from the stage and at the young band leaders. His friends were grinning from ear to ear. Hmph, he thought. This was only slightly less nerve wrecking than saving the world. Gohan will be in debt for eternity after this is over. As Piccolo glanced down at the sheet music, his brow furrowed. Trunks wasn't following the music very well.  
  
Vegeta watched the music carefully. Stupid Goten, he snarled to himself. Can't even follow the music. Vegeta glanced over at Piccolo on his next pause. And the namek, too.  
  
Trunks scowled in surprise as Goten struck a different chord-no, not a chord. It was more like a long screech. Two can play at this game, he thought as his instinctive love for fighting began to boil inside of him. He struck his chord again. Vegeta scowled and followed behind it with the small solo that was assigned to him.   
  
Several Laryngitis fans began to boo.  
  
"Trunks!" Goten yelled, "What're you doing?"  
  
"I'm following the music!" He growled out. "You're the one who's messing us up!"  
  
Goten paused for a moment, looking enraged. His face twisted into a sneer as shouted "Fine! Have it your way!" His fingers raced over the thick strings as he created another twanging screech. Piccolo responded by doing the small so assigned to him.  
  
Trunks noticed Piccolo this time. That jerk! He thought. Giving Piccolo the wrong music! He drew a deep breath and shouted at him. "Hey Piccolo! Don't play that!"  
  
Piccolo ignored him. He would play what was set out for him to play.  
  
Goten yelled something similar at Vegeta. He sneered as he replied, "Don't tell me what to do, spawn of Kakuraut! I'm doing what's written here!"  
  
Goten glided towards Trunks. They met in the center of the auditorium, nearly thirty feet above the heads of the Laryngitis fans, who were now staring in wonderment at the incredible special effects of the opening show.  
  
Goten screeched again, baring his teeth in a fierce grin. Trunks smiled as he played his simple chord. Goten winced and tried to grab his friend's guitar. Trunks reeled away and shoved Goten aside. The two stared at each other for a moment before leaping on one another in midair. At every opportunity, the best friends slammed their own chords on their instruments before being hit or thrown off.  
  
As Trunks readied himself for his line, Goten came from underneath him punching Trunks in the stomach. A little to hard. Trunks reeled and nearly dropped. Goten swooped alongside him and began pelting him with blows.  
  
Vegeta's grip on the drumstick increased until they were snapped in half. He slammed down what remained of the wooden utensils and let loose the first Chi ball. It slammed Goten against the cement wall of the auditorium.  
  
The crowd howled and screamed as the singed Goten turned around, thinking the attack had somehow come from Trunks. "Burning! Burning!" The Laryngitis fans shouted gleefully, loving every second of the show.  
  
A loud, blaring chord rocked the concert hall as Trunks slammed his guitar as hard as he possibly could.  
  
Up in the stands, Bulma and Chichi were strangling each other.   
  
"Well if your stupid son hadn't played his guitar wrong-"  
  
"Goten's not stupid!"   
  
Chichi and Bulma grappled with each other until they toppled onto Goku. He awoke with a start. "Huh? What's going on? Goten? Trunks? Chichi?"   
  
Gohan sat calmly in his seat, feeling slightly amused, as long as it didn't get to be too serious.   
  
Vegeta stood by the drums, beating out Trunks' part with his bare hands, trying to hold back his mirth. A malicious grin was plastered on his face. He exchanged a glance with Trunks, and they both were suddenly encase with a fiery aura. The crowd started chanting, "Burning! Burning! Burning!" They screamed as the seemingly on fire saiyens smirked identically, one beating out a rhythm, and the other fingering chords.   
  
Goten jumped up, and the aura enflamed him too. He grabbed his bass guitar with both hands and started pounding the first notes that came to mind.   
  
Piccolo, growing more irritated by the second, flung up his hands in frustration. Now neither of them were playing the right music.  
  
"My way!" shouted Goten.  
  
"No, mine!" shouted Trunks.  
  
This guitar is good for more than making music, Goten thought as he zoomed at Trunks. Distracting him with a Chi ball in his left hand, Goten slammed his guitar into his right side. There was a loud twang as the guitar shattered and fell to the ground. Splinters and dust rained down on the screaming audience, who tried to grab the larger pieces.  
  
Gohan rose out of his seat. Maybe this was getting a little too out of hand.   
  
Trunks pushed himself away from the wall, his hip aching where he had knocked it against the cement. A bloodthirsty look came over his face as he flung himself, screaming, at Goten, Going SSJ at the same time. Goten didn't have time to react as Trunks slammed into him, sending him hurtling towards the opposite wall. Trunks pulled back and let loose a shower of Chi balls at Goten, his lavender hair standing on end.  
  
The crowd was howling with delight.  
  
Vegeta was laughing as he forgot the music and started hitting the drums, putting all of his energy into it, but careful not to break the instrument. The pounding deafened the crowd. The amplifiers began to sing with the strain of the noise.  
  
Piccolo was growing more and more frustrated. Finally, he boiled over with rage. Throwing off his cloak and shoulder armor, he overturned the massive keyboard and Chi blasted it to the next dimension. Screaming, he flung himself into the air and flew upward, waiting for an interval in the fighting when he could get both Trunks and Goten at the same time.  
  
Vegeta's drums were so loud that the front part of the crowd was clutching their ears with pain. The stage directors had passed out behind the mixing boards. Staff members were running back and forth, trying to sort out the chaos.  
  
The band Laryngitis swaggered onto the stage. Their died, bright red hair was spiked above their heads, and half of the skin on their face was pierced. As soon as the entire band could see what was going on inside the auditorium, they stood there and gaped. Instead of a clear stage and cheering fans, they had walked onto what remained of a stage, with no guitars, no microphones and a large, gaping hole where the keyboard had once stood. Three blurs of people were whirring above the heads of the crowd that did not even notice the band's entry. Only Vegeta stood at the drums.   
  
The Laryngitis leader, Rob Koffing, walked over to the laughing Vegeta and tried to push him off of the drums. When he didn't budge, Koffing walked around to the front of the drums and yelled in his face. "What are you doing, man? What's going on?" Vegeta ignored him. When Koffing saw he was to get no response, he reached over and grabbed a large handful of Vegeta's springy, black hair, and pulled.   
  
The stage lit up as Koffing burst into flames. Vegeta lowered a smoking hand. He glared at the rest of the Laryngitis band without turning his head. They all scrambled back through the backstage door, screaming.  
  
Gohan casually made his way to what remained of the stage, avoiding the chaotic turmoil of the crowd. He jumped lightly up the stairs and made his way to the front of the stage. Picking up a microphone, he flipped it on and spoke into it. "Goten! Trunks!"  
  
They either ignored him, or didn't even hear. They were raining down hard on each other, alternating between Chi balls and fists. Trunks reeled back as Goten knocked him hard with his left hand. His friend hovered there for an instant, blood smeared on his forehead from where he had skinned it against the wall.   
  
That instant was all Piccolo needed. He shot out of the shadows, and gripped them both by the neck. His claws dug into their skin as he screamed, shaking them. "Here's what I think about your song!" He slammed them with all his might against the cold, concrete ceiling.  
  
Vegeta leaped into the air, his ongoing drum solo long forgotten. "Namekian!" he thundered and sped towards Piccolo.  
  
Gohan took one glance at the scene and bit his lip. He pushed himself into the air . The wind blew back his raven hair as he whipped by Vegeta and pulled Piccolo to the side.  
  
Vegeta swore darkly as he tore past where Piccolo had been and nearly smashed into the wall.  
  
Gohan turned and looked up at Goten and Trunks. They had stopped fighting for the moment and were staring at each other, hovering dazedly. Gohan noticed that there was a light dust in their hair and two indentions on the ceiling where their heads had been smashed into it.  
  
Vegeta whirled around and stared at Gohan, who stood in a defensive stance in front of his former trainer. Vegeta swallowed the bile rising in the back of his throat. He shoved back his saiyen instincts. Glancing for an instant at his son and Goten, he scowled past Gohan at Piccolo. "If you ever do that again," he said, his voice just above a deadly whisper, "It'll be your last-"  
  
He was interrupted by a loud smack as Goten was slammed against the ceiling once more by Trunks, who had regained his senses.  
  
Vegeta, growing increasingly angry, flew up and caught Trunks by the arm and towed him along behind him down to the stage. When Trunks began to protest, Vegeta growled deep in his throat, cutting him off.  
  
Goten hovered and stared dumbly as his friend was being pulled down to the stage. The chanting crowd, along with the singing of the amps and the burning stage helped bring him back to his senses.  
  
Down in the audience, Bulma and Chichi had stopped trying to kill one another when Piccolo had attacked. Now they were staring in disbelief as Gohan and Vegeta separated the two.  
  
Vegeta and Trunks lowered to the stage. Vegeta whipped his head around to glare at his son, whose arm was beginning to pain from his father's grip. Trunks' attitude faltered. For a moment he wanted to whimper, but he suppressed it into a shudder as he met his father's cold stare. "Stop it." Vegeta whispered, his voice even more frightening then his expression.  
  
Trunks looked down sheepishly. "But . . . " He protested. "But I have to fight . . . Goten." Suddenly it sounded ridiculously stupid. Trunks was surprised to see his father smile slightly at him.  
  
Gohan landed and walked up to the remaining microphone that had been carelessly dropped when he had taken to flight. Tapping it, he said "Could you please be quiet."  
  
The crowd ignored him. They were all talking amongst themselves very loudly, some of them still chanting, "Burning! Burning! Burning!"  
  
"I said could you be quiet." This time Gohan raised his voice.  
  
There was no response. Piccolo and Goten landed, Goten walking to Gohan's side.  
  
"I said, SHUT UP!" Gohan bellowed into the microphone.  
  
The audience quieted immediately. The eerie silence was welcome to the saiyen's ears.  
  
"Ah . . . Thanks." He said much more quietly, aware now that someone in the catwalks had focused a spotlight on him. "Ah . . . umm. . . " Gohan breathed into the mic. The Laryngitis fans stood absolutely silent. They were all staring.  
  
Bulma and Chichi stared along with them. Bulma slowly raised her hands and let a single clap echo around the concert hall. And another. And then another. Chichi caught on and started applauding also. And then Goku. And then everyone in the auditorium.  
  
The cheers arose like a tsunami. Gohan, Piccolo and Goten stood at the front of the stage facing the Laryngitis fans. Vegeta was still gripping Trunks' arm as he looked up. They were all stunned.  
  
Only Gohan seemed to know what to say. "Let's give a hand to Eternal!" He shouted into the only remaining mic. He raised his hands and clapped, walking through the door leading backstage.  
  
Eternal was left standing in the spotlight. The cheers rose to the ceiling. Dust floated down on the red, spiked hair of the crowd.  
  
Trunks grinned and shook his father's grip off of his arm. Walking to the front, he exchanged a proud glance with Goten. He grabbed his hand and thrust it into the air. Then they took a deep bow.  
  
Piccolo and Vegeta stood in the background, staring at the half-saiyens. Vegeta crossed his arms. A slight smile played across his lips. Yes, he thought. Trunks is like his father.   
  
The spotlights flashed across the ruined stage, and the roar of the crowd drowned out all other noises. Both Trunks and Goten were thinking the same thing. There couldn't possibly have been a better ending.  
  
  
The End   
  



End file.
